What's left behind
by AliaAtreidesBr
Summary: SPOILERS FROM "BATTLE FOR THE COWL"! Dick Grayson, the Nightwing, deals with his new responsibilities, while Selina Kyle, the Catwoman, faces a hard decision concearning a discovery. And what about Bruce?


**Warning: this story has SPOILERS from the series "Battle for the Cowl". It takes place after the events of "Batman: RIP", by writer Grant Morrison and artist Tony Daniel. If you didn't read those stories, but don't mind the SPOILER, you should know at least this: **

**BIG SPOILER! BE WARNED!**

**Batman is dead. Or at least Bruce Wayne is. "Battle for the Cowl" established Dick Grayson, the first Robin and former Nightwing, as the new Batman, and Damian (supposedly Bruce Wayne's son with Talia al' Ghul) as the new Robin. Tim Drake is now Red Robin – I think – and Oracle/Barbara Gordon is back to help. And that's pretty much what you need to know. **

_About the story that follows: _

_A long time ago I wrote a story about Batman and Catwoman having a child (it's published in , if you want to check it). The story was totally out of storyline, however, and although I don't think it's a problem, I also wanted to write a story in the same theme that would be more fit to the storyline. _

_Also, I always wanted to write something about Dick Grayson as Batman, and look at that: Battle for the Cowl came and made him Batman. Not that I like the story, or how DC is dealing with Batman right now, but I thought this could be a nice opportunity. _

_I won't say much more, because I guess the story I wrote will say a lot, and I don't need to over-explain and ruin the experience for readers. However, I must say I'm really grateful you took your time to read my work, and I hope you enjoy. Other than that, I ask you to be nice and forgive my mistakes, because English is a foreign language to me, and I haven't been writing in while. _

_Have fun, and leave a review if you can. _

_Thank you, _

_AliaAtreidesBr_

* * *

Damn you, Bruce.

Why, of all times, did you have to die now?

I'm crazy, you probably thinking; and incredibly selfish, I'm sure you're telling yourself that. But no, Bruce, this is not about _me_.

It's about you.

I don't mind being Batman in your place. It's hard, and it's a job I didn't sign for – if not for the circumstances, I would much rather stay where I was… Except that Batman being _dead_ brought more than a few problems, and, as you would very much like to hear, Gotham _does _need a Batman. Desperately needs a Batman, actually, and I suppose I'm the guy for the job. I mean, you did train me, right? And I wasn't so bad, I think I remember you saying once or twice in all these years.

Again, I don't mind being the Batman; if anything, I'm proud, and a little nervous about being the one to fit in your shoes. You see, Bruce, I know that, if only as a contingence plan, you thought about it. You knew this could happen, and you prepared yourself – you prepared us. We're ready, Tim and me, and Barbara, and even Alfred (though it breaks his heart). We know what to do, and how to do it. Together.

Because I know you were kind of a loner, but I'm sure you want us to be a team.

A family.

And you prepared us for that too. When you… well, when you _died_, and after that first shock, we were able to look around and see what you wanted us to see: each other. The hit was hard, perhaps the hardest we ever took, but we dealt with it. Tim stood up – he was the first one to reach the surface when we were drowning, Barbara likes to say – and said: _"well, it's up to us now."_ What a kid.

I was the last, I admit. It took me Jason and all his craziness to make me see it. I failed him, and, sadly, that's what brought me back.

And here I am.

I don't know if I'm doing it right. It's working, I think, and that's what matters, right? There are a lot, an infinite number of questions I would like to ask you, but I can't – obviously. Many things you didn't explain: like Damian, for instance.

But I'm proud to say that I'm working things out, and figuring out my own way of playing this game. And if I'm in trouble, well, I ask myself what _you _would do. And then do the same, but a little different (I try to smile every once in a while, so that's a big one, right?). When it comes to fighting crime, however, I admit I still have a long way to go before I reach your level.

You see, I wanted to say that everything is okay. I wish I could tell you to really rest in peace, and don't worry, 'cause I got it covered. That's what I wanted to say… but I can't.

Because, Bruce, you left me in a very difficult position.

No, this is not about villains. It's not about crime. It's not about your fellow Justice Leaguers and alike. It's about something, Bruce, that not even you would quite know how to deal with…

It was last night.

* * *

Parking the Batcar inside the cave, he turned right to continue what he was saying:

"I _mean it_, Damian. You do something like that one more time…"

The boy – _Robin_ – opened the door in a violent movement, clearly annoyed by the words directed at him.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah… I get it, okay? No more…"

"No more _murders attempts_, I'm _deadly_ serious."

"Ha, ha." He slammed the door behind him.

"We are not over, kid." Dick left the car and followed Damian as he climbed the stairs to the main level of the cave. "This has to be crystal clear, because I was sure we had discussed it before…"

"It was an accident, all right?" He ripped off his own mask and rubbed a hand across his face, drying the sweat and dirt that denounced that Batman and Robin had had yet another long night of work in Gotham's streets. "What should I do? Let the criminal stab _me_ instead?"

"How about ask for help and not try to solve everything by yourself?"

"Right. And then you would be busy saving my ass, while those guys left with all the money from the bank…"

"Exactly." Reaching for the boy's shoulder, he forced Damian to look at his eyes. "It's what we do, man. We save lives. _Lives_. They come before anything, before _everything_."

The statement seemed to leave Robin out of words. "I… I…", he mumbled.

"Especially the lives of our partners." Dick let go of the boy's shoulder to lightly pat his arm. "It's all right. It's new for you, I know… not the way those guys of the Assassins League worked."

"No", he said in a whisper as Batman passed by him in his way to the second level. "Mission first, team later."

"Not how we do it, Damian. Here we…"

"… leave no men behind, right?"

The voice that completed his sentence was feminine, subtle, and it came from the darkness in one of the corners of the cave. There, unnoticed until stepping out of the shadows, Catwoman greeted them:

"How are you, boys?"

"What the…?!?" Damian jumped from his spot and covered his face again, yelling in surprise:

"How did she get in?!?" He looked around in confusion. "The alarms… the damn alarms didn't…!"

"They wouldn't", she quickly added. "I dismantled them."

"Impossible!"

A brief smirk was her only reaction to that, and she turned to Batman. "Sorry about that, by the way."

"No problem", Dick waved a hand, "they sucked anyway. I was planning on rebuilding the whole thing, but kept delaying it… now I think I have no choice."

Damian too turned to face Dick, but he seemed deeply shocked:

"You are _friends_ with this intruder?"

"This one is a real character, isn't he?" Catwoman had a charming smile hanging on her lips, and she stared at Damian with condescendence. "Don't worry, kid, the Robins never like me at first… but we kind of grew into each other, didn't we Dick?"

"And she knows your _name_?"

"Catwoman is not an intruder, Robin…" He removed his cowl and, although his expression was grave, his tone was calm and friendly. "She is a friend, yes, has been for a while. She and Bruce were…"

"Good friends too", she said before Dick finished the sentence. "For many years."

The sorrow in her voice was obvious, almost palpable. Damian, however, ignored it:

"She's a criminal!", he insisted. "She shouldn't be here, and you shouldn't show her your face…"

"She knows me since I was your age… masks won't make a difference."

"They rarely do", she added, now recovering her amused tone.

Damian took a few steps closer to Dick, one of his hands on his utility belt. "She is a bugler! A thief, a criminal wanted in twenty nine different countries!"

"Twenty nine? Really?" She scratched her chin. "I could swear it was thirty one…"

"She's mocking me!"

"Catwoman, please." He moved to stay between his young partner and Selina. "Robin here is a little… well, hot-headed, and he knows nothing about you. So, if you could just tell us why you're here…"

She opened her mouth to speak, but Damian didn't give her the chance:

"I know all I _need_ to know about her", he said. "She's the _enemy_, that's all that matters."

"That's enough, Robin!" Now was Dick's turn to show why he was Batman: his expression darkened and his glance was cold and threatening, to the point where Damian wasn't able to stare at him and lowered his glance to the floor under his feet. "Either you are capable of showing some respect for her or you go to your room, understand?"

"I guess you leave me no choice, then." He gazed at both Dick and Selina with contempt and anger. "But if what you tell me about my father is true… if he really indulged the company of this _petty thief_…"

"Mind your words, _Damian_… I won't have you saying anything offensive about Bruce."

The boy clenched his teeth and crossed his arms over the chest, but said nothing else. In quick, heavy steps he reached the stairs to the main entrance, and left the cave in silence. Once he was gone, Dick turned back his attention to Selina:

"Sorry about that… he's quick to judge and even quicker to act… a handful."

"'_Father'_?"

He nodded his head in a gesture that denounced his impatience. "Long story… and we don't really know the whole truth about it, so I don't think it's a good idea…"

"He's Talia's son, isn't he?"

Dick pursed his lips and lowered his gaze to the gloves he carefully removed. "Supposedly", he said. To his surprise, the answer brought a smile to her lips:

"Amazing", was her comment.

"What is?", was Dick's intrigued question.

Catwoman moved a few steps back, finding support for her hips on one of the computer's panels. She leaned on it and used both hands to raise her goggles, revealing a pair of emerald-green eyes.

"I'm just saying, that girl and her father… they've pulled a lot of tricks on him, didn't they?"

"I suppose", Dick moved his shoulders in a gesture of disdain. "Not nearly as much as you did, but…"

"Oh, shut up", she said in an offended tone, but punctuated the sentence with a sly smile.

Returning her smile, he approached her and took his place on Bruce's old chair. He spoke gravely:

"I'm glad you could make it, Selina."

"Well, me too, Big Bird." She offered her gloved hand of slender, long nailed fingers, and he took it in a gentle grasp and with a sigh. "You can count on me, kid. For anything."

"Thanks… it… it means a lot. Coming from you, it really means a lot."

"You're gonna do great, Dick. You _are_ doing great." Slipping her hand from his tight fingers, she used it to kindly stroke his cheek, then lowering it to take hold of his chin and force his eyes on hers. "I mean it, Dick. Bruce would be really _proud_. I promise."

"Right back at you", he said with a gloomy smile.

She retreat her hand and crossed her arms. "Oh, I don't know about that…"

"No, really…! All your help, all the support you've been giving us… not to mention, your contacts in the underworld have been pretty useful…"

"That's nice, kid." She left her place over the panel and stood up in all her height, Dick staring up at her. "To be honest, though, I have to confess that I never planned on being one of 'Gotham knights'. And I haven't changed my mind."

"Yes, I know you're very fond of your privacy and place in this town… Just like _he_ was."

"Not about that", she promptly said.

"It's about what, then?" He examined her in silence for a few seconds, noticing how she carefully stepped away, hiding her face from his evaluative glance as shadows concealed her slender silhouette. He asked, his voice now carrying tones of preoccupation:

"Something wrong?"

"You know?" She lowered her goggles again, and walked until reaching the first step of the stairs to the mansion. "I know I promised I would come every now and then to check on you guys, but I think you're doing fine… Sure don't need an _intruder_ like me sniffing around your little playground…"

"Please, don't mind Damian… he's just a kid, and he'll end up liking you, just as we did…"

"No, Dick, it's not…" Her voice faltered and she turned to face the wall, a deep sigh as she placed her arms against her own body, her fingers clutching her own biceps in unnecessary and disproportional strength. "Look, you'll be all right. You're doing a wonderful job – that's all I wanted to say. I'm the one… I'm the one that needs to work things out… I'm the one who needs a break."

"What do you mean…?"

Her lips moved in the shape of what seemed like a dim smile. "I don't know. I… won't be around. I guess that's what it means."

"Don't do that." He left his chair and walked to her, keeping just a few inches between them. "You shouldn't be alone. None of us should."

"I'm pretty used to it, Batboy."

"That's sad."

"Yeah, well, we had plenty of that in the last weeks, don't you think?"

"More than we deserved." Carefully, much like one does to a jumpy street cat that crosses his way, he approached her and put an arm around her shoulders, a gesture that caused her to flinch, at first, and then led to a slow acceptance. "We need good things in our lives, don't you think?"

To Dick's great shock, his words brought tears to Selina's eyes. "My god, Dick…", she whispered before her voice was cut by strong sobs. Then, her body gradually shaking more and more from the strong, powerful cry that escaped through her throat, Catwoman allowed her head to rest against his body, her face pressed on the uniform that once had belonged to Bruce, and that now was just another thing that reminded them he was gone, lost, and wouldn't come back.

Surprised, Dick acted based on his instinct: he embraced her with care, sheltering the woman his mentor – his _father_ – had loved in the best way he could. He was sure that his own shoulder wouldn't be as tall, his chest wouldn't be as broad, and his arms wouldn't be as comforting to her as Bruce's would, but that was exactly the point: to fill his place, and be there for those who needed him when necessary.

"Hey", he spoke softly, close to her ear, "you don't have to be on your own. I know Bruce wouldn't want you to be alone in a moment like this, so if you need anything, a place to stay, or if you want company…"

"I'm pregnant", she suddenly said, her face still hidden on his chest, the words muffled against his skin – and yet, the statement was surprisingly discernable.

"I'm pregnant, and I don't know what I should do, Dick." Now looking up at him, her eyes searched, desperately searched for an answer. "Please, tell me…! What should I do…?"

A question, he knew, that was not meant for Batman, but for the man under the cowl.

* * *

Wanna know why I missed you today?

Went to the zoo. Just goofing around. Needed to think, think about stuff, think about what I want, about how I should live my life. I'm not proud, you know, I'm not proud of what I did the other night… I know I screwed up, I know – I knew then – I shouldn't have gone to the cave.

I know I shouldn't have told Dick about _this_.

It's _our_ problem, right? It has nothing to do with him, or anyone else. It's just between us, something we should work out _together_, right? I mean, we didn't plan on it… we didn't wanted it… right?

_Right_?

Oh, hell, where are you, Bruce?!?

Tell me you didn't plan on dieing, tell me it was an accident, and you didn't want it to happen. Tell me you fought, fought with all you had, and that you tried to be alive to see another day – night? Please, just _please_, tell me you wish you were here now.

Please…

I can't do this, Bruce. I can't. Not on my own. Not again.

Not _alone_.

Dick… I shouldn't have told him. Oh, you should have seen him… the look on his face! Terrified, and then shocked, and then… happy. Yes, happy. Yes, he smiled. He held me, and kissed my cheek, and said _congratulations_, the poor kid. Said it was _great_ _news_. Said that you would like… no, he said you would be _glad_ if you were there.

Would you?

Dick thinks he knows you better than anyone else… and maybe he does. But he doesn't know that side of you that I do. He doesn't know – he doesn't understand! – what in the world made you help me when…

When I gave up Helena.

The hardest thing I have ever done. And, perhaps, one of the hardest things for you too.

But I know. I know why you helped me, why you took the responsibility of finding her a new home and a different life. I know it, Bruce, because your reasons where just too much like mine…

You loved her. You wanted to protect her. Almost as much as I did.

And Dick can't understand because, well, he never had a kid. He never lost a child, and he doesn't know – though he will soon enough – what feels like to have a being totally and completely under your care, a little person that looks up at you like you're a god… he doesn't know what it feels like when you _fail_. When you are forced to _watch _one of those crazy bastards, those maniacs in colored outfits and with sadist minds, holding a baby – your baby – under a knife or on the edge of a building. He doesn't know, Bruce. He _was_ the kid in danger more than a few times, but he doesn't know what the view from _this_ side is like…

An agony that is so painful you would rather give up the one you love than see him in a situation like that again.

Dick doesn't know – and that's why he wants me to keep the baby.

But _you_ know, don't you Bruce?

Would you tell me something different? Would you, maybe, agree with me that having this child would be nothing but a source of preoccupation, pain, suffering? Would you tell me that having it would be irresponsible, a reckless and selfish action?

Dick says you wouldn't.

He says you would want it. He says you would ask me, beg me if you had to. You would want me to have our child, he says, and would do all in your power to protect it.

Oh, Bruce, if only you knew how much it hurts…

Because the thing is, no matter all the problems, no matter all the things I know could go wrong – and probably will -, no matter that I've been trough all this before…

I still want it, Bruce.

Maybe is because you're gone. Maybe is because I miss you like a drowning man misses air, and because I catch myself thinking about you at every moment, even when I shouldn't – which is the same as saying all the time. Maybe is because I see you in my dreams, or maybe is just the fact that I've been so lonely, so alone…! I don't know _what_ it is, Bruce, but I know this:

I want it, Bruce, with all my heart.

I loved Helena. I loved her in a crazy, obsessive way. I loved her so much that I gave her up, all to allow her a normal, safe life. And nothing, no one can fill this big, huge hole inside my chest, the piece of me that was ripped off and went with her when she left in the arms of a stranger. Nothing in the world can replace her…

But this little one inside me, well, maybe he can help me cope.

Maybe this baby can give me something… something that helps me go through the day – especially through the night. Right now, Bruce, I don't have much reason to leave my bed or my apartment, not even to put on my cat costume and wonder over rooftops. _You_ are gone, silly… and without you, I realize now, I'm not much of a Catwoman anymore, you know?

And then reality comes knocking on my door: Selina, are you insane? Do you really want your child to live under the constant threat of your enemies? Or, worst, under the threats of his _father's_ enemies?

Just imagine, Bruce, someone like the Joker getting his hands on Batman's child, on _our_ child…

No. No, I don't want to imagine. It's too awful. Too _familiar_.

And you don't have to imagine, off course. You _know_.

But you're not here anymore, Dick says; he is Batman now, and he is the target of all those wackos. Like this thought makes things any better, right? Still, he insists all is gonna be fine… says he will take care of everything. Take care of us – of the baby, and even me. Tell me, who does he sound like, hm?

I can't do it. I can't.

What if… what if I realize I just can't do it _after_ the baby is born? My God, I can't give away another child… I… I couldn't… I…

Oh, I rather die Bruce. I want to be in hell, but not in a place where I have to let someone take my son or daughter from my arms again. It would be easier, I think, if I just could end this now… it would be easy to end it now, right?

Who am I kidding…?

The thing is, I understand Dick. I know how he must feel, and what he expects. I feel the same, in a way. In a way, I'm just as anxious – probably more – to know what will come of this. Of this child. Of our lives. I want to see our baby born; hold him or her in my arms, and look at that little face in search of you… Because it would be something _you_ left, Bruce. It would be part of you, and we, all of us that loved you, would love this baby too.

I miss you, Bruce. Now more than ever. Like I was telling you, today I went to the zoo, like we did that one time, remember? When you finally told me who you were, who was under the cowl… And then we went home, to your place, and it was the first time we made love without all those secrets hanging over our heads. It was the first time I really _saw_ you, the real you… and it was so great.

That night, for once, I truly believed we could make it work.

And if _this_ had happened _then_, things would be very different today, wouldn't they?

Maybe you would be here today.

Even though I only discovered after you were gone, I have been thinking about how I would tell you if you were here.

I have been planning it.

I would want it to be without masks, because, well, I would want to see your face. And I would do it in day light, because I wanted to let you know life was going to change. Then, I would take you to a place like this: the zoo, where we have kids running around, and families having a good time. Because, lets face it, none of us had a real family while growing up – but we could be starting one now, and nothing like a family place to make the feeling flourish.

We would come to this spot right here, the white tiger's cage, where you first took off your mask in front of me. Or _for_ me. And here I would look straight into your eyes, just like you did to me that day, and I would make a revelation that would change your life forever.

And then, maybe, you would say to me those three little words…

Stupid, hm? So dumb of me, coming to this place, remembering the old days… It's only making everything so hard, so damn hard…!

I hate you. I hate you for not being here now.

I hate you for not telling me what to do.

I hate you for getting me pregnant, for making me go through something like this again…

I hate you for making me love you.

And I love you. I really do.

I'm hoping for a boy.


End file.
